Saved from Redemption
by ignipotent
Summary: The return of Dracula bring up hidden memories of Van Helsing. These memories bring him closer to his past and farther from the life he is used to living. Soon he is involved in an intricate tale of revenge, bringing him farther from his redemption. SLASH


This is just a story the two of us thought up, as we were complaining about the corniness, of the plot. We apologize if the plot is ridiculously insane, because the two of us, are complete psychotic idiots. Enjoy!

Shadow & Tic

Disclaimer: Do you see us sitting in our $1,000,000 indoor pool, drinking 1898 vintage wine, while barking off orders to our servants? Apparently not.

Warning: This is **Slash**, or in other words, malexmale relationships. You don't like it, don't read it. We will be extremely upset if we see a single, "omg lyk u guys r soooo sickkk!!11" in our reviews.

* * *

**Saved from Redemption**

It had been a year, since the passing of Anna Valarious. Even after the fading of seasons, the heart-wrenching pain of her death had not yet subsided from his soul. It was _his_ fault that Anna had died, _he_ killed her. The death of the young Valarious cost him a flood of guilty--leaving him guilty for not saving her, guilty for killing her, and guilty for not dying instead. His soul was left with only vague sense of warmth, the feeling of grief overpowering whatever pleasant feelings he once had. Just thinking of Anna left him with a bitter taste in his mouth, and a dull ache within his heart. He, of course, still had Carl with him; the brilliant inventor and friar provided him with a friend, maybe even a brother--but never could he replace the could-be lover Anna was. He departed on more monster hunting journeys, hoping to somehow take his mind off her death with the overload of work. This technique had worked to some degree, but in the end, it had just resulted in a weary body and broken spirit. Somehow, he would have to place this tragedy behind him, and become the hunter he once was. Only time would be the judge.

His eyes, the color of warm hazel, gazed despairingly at the ever approaching sunset. The sun was already dancing upon the edge of the horizon, its orange-red hues leaving trails upon the sky's azure canvas. An exasperated side left the throat of the hunter, as his sore and broken body collapsed upon the soft haven, which was his bed. Gabriel gaze flickered across the room, his eyes surveying the chaotic jumble around him. Clothes lays strewn across the floor, while pen and parchment littered the old oak desk at the side of the room. Remnants of old meals clustered his nightstand, while discarded weapons leaned against his closet. He would clean the mess up, someday. His eye suddenly caught the sleek movement of a piece of cloth trailing out of the open window. It fluttered gracefully and teasingly, almost as if the cloth were beckoning him over to tug playfully at it. For a few moments he stared at it with glazed eyes, reminded of the way Anna's curls used to bounce so energetically, so playfully, against his callused arms and sun-bronzed face. Almost instinctively his fingers twitched, in a half-hearted effort to tilt his hat as he had used to. Then, suddenly, as though he had been charged by a behemoth, his mind snapped back to reality. Anna was forever gone, she would never be coming back, and he had left the window closed.

A cold chill filled him, frayed edges of fear plucking his mind and body into intense focus. A voice that was carried weakly upon the wind entered the room, holding an echo that reverberated powerfully long after the true voice died. "Sooo....." it hissed softly, as though a wounded cat were talking to him. "Gaaabrieeelll... you ttthhhhoughttt to leaaave me for dead baack in thhhat casssstle..." Another spastic wave of fear hit him. He recognized the thick, hissing accent (though it was foreign with weakness and extreme hatred now), the smooth voice that left one entranced but no less terrified. And when the form of a man struggled into shape in the dark corner by the window, he was not surprised. The sun had slipped behind the rim of the earth now, and only oozing crimson and gold trails marked where the setting sun once was. He narrowed his eyes to glare back at the almost glowing pupils that stared back at him.

"Its... you..." he growled a faint reminiscence of the werewolf venom that had once coursed through his veins. "I thought you had died... but I was wrong. Dracula..."

His hand reached out, effortlessly grabbing the crossbow situated near his bed, eyes focused sternly upon the approaching face of Dracula. The figure loomed closer, the sound of rubber upon wood was clearly heard echoing around the room, a face as if chiseled from the purest marble came into view. Obsidian-hued eyes scanned the armed Van Helsing, delight dancing across the shadowy orbs, while a sheen of strong lust mingled in them. A laugh, etched with the marks of pure sadistic pleasure and mischief, was withdrawn from the throat of the god-forsaken one.

"My beautiful angel, you were always such a hasty one…" he chuckled, approaching Van Helsing.

Gabriel eyed the terror, as he came closer every second--his muscles froze, along with his mind. Why couldn't he just shoot the demon and be over with it? Memories long forgotten began to the tinge the edge of his mind, flooding his brain with an onslaught of scenes. Scenes of Dracula, not as the undead terror he was now, but as a vibrant young man, as a soldier in the war, pervaded his mind. These scenes were filled with many unspeakable things, but nothing was as astonishing as memories of lying in a bed, soft sheets trailing across his bodies, as he stared into the eyes of his old lover--Dracula. The look of astonishment was apparent on the rough face of Gabriel, Dracula merely responded with another melodious chuckle. "I thought you just needed a bit of a reminder…." he spoke, in his normal thick accent.

With a growl, Van Helsing pushed away the ancient memories, sending them into a hidden abyss in his mind. He would not be defeated with images of a past that did not pertain to his current life.

"Dracula, those memories are so distant--so ancient with the dust of many centuries. To me, they are nothing, none of those memories are relevant in this day and age." he hissed, letting his confident rise of slight notch.

"Is that so, my dear Gabriel? You may not realize it, but a part of you, hidden within your soul, still aches for me, for my love. Not to mention, the love I feel ever so strongly toward you. My wives, they were just objects under my power, to satisfy my moments of lust, but no one except you, can make me feel…so…" he drawled, lust woven in between his sentences.

"Enough talk, Dracula, I'm going to kill you, for Anna." he spoke, short and to the point.

Without much of a moments notice, silver arrows ripped through the air, setting of a whistling sound that reverberated throughout the room. Dracula stood unphased, as the points of the arrows bore into his ribs, the sound of bones breaking and caving into one another was heard in the room. The skin around the arrows began to burn a sizzle, as the skin melted into an unrecognizable goo-like substance. A harsh cackle filled the air, as Dracula threw his arms up into the air, laughing insanely.

"Gabriel, my precious Gabriel, you can not _kill_ me, no matter how you try. I have been delivered by the devil once again; he has bequeathed me unimaginable powers. For, I am now upon the earth once again, thanks to the will of Satan." he rasped, while his hands easily slipped the arrows out of his chest. "Anna is dead, gone, perished, her ashes strewn in the air. I thought that would have been apparent to you now. Anyways, she is not deserving of your love, even if she had survived, I would have killed her. I will not allow _anyone _to love you Gabriel, except for I. Luckily for me, you killed her **yourself**, aren't you proud Gabriel? Proud to claim that you were and still are a monster. Just. Like. Me."

"**Dracula, **do not make me burn off your face, just so I can stop your disgusting mouth from speaking trash. I am not a monster, not anymore, I may have killed her but…she's happy now, with her family, in god's arms, unlike you." Gabriel hissed, his cold voice adding to the feeling of dread now in the air.

"God? God is pathetic compared to the might of Satan, I feel sorry for that Valerious girl, and I would shiver at the thought of being--in heaven." Dracula growled his angered fueled slightly by Gabriel's bothersome attitude. "I'm glad you're not a werewolf anymore…for now I can carry out what I've always wanted to do, Gabriel." he grinned, taking a sudden step toward Gabriel.

There was blurring and the sound of crushed metal clattering across the ground, in no moments notice, Dracula had already gained the advantage on Van Helsing, removing him of his weapon. Another blur and he had pulled the body of Van Helsing against his own, in some sort of malicious hug.

A panicked look flickered across Helsing's face as he realized what type of situation he was in. Numerous thoughts flooded his mind, how did Dracula get this fast and strong? Even with his angel blood, he was unable to keep up with the demonic fiend. Doing the normal thing a person would do in his situation, he pulled against Dracula's firm hold with all his might. His muscles were straining, as he continue to pull away. This was all wasted effort though, for he was barely able to move even an inch from Dracula's hold.

"Gabriel…you humor me…"

A light brush of fangs trailed along the vulnerable neckline of Van Helsing, as Dracula brought his lips up for a chaste kiss upon Van Helsing's rough face. Lust-filled eyes admired Van Helsing with much detail, as his fangs approached closer to the pulsing artery.

"Gabriel…you have always been mine…"

The white canines pierced the tender flesh above the artery, as they sunk into the vein itself. Greedily, Dracula withdrew the thick, crimson substance from Van Helsing, while his life source steadily continued to fade away. Van Helsing stared blindly, his eyes once bright, now clouded with the coming of death. How could this be death of him? His fists clenched with the little strength that remained his body, as he soon nearly drifted in the valley of death.

"Gabriel, you think I would let you just die? For all the pain, you have caused me emotionally and physically. Would I let you just fade into the valley of death, when I still desire you…? If you think yes, then you are a fool Gabriel. For now, you shall truly be my **Fallen Angel**, Gabriel…"

The fangs pulled away from the vein, a planning look etched upon the marble face of Dracula. Flesh was ripped, as the fangs tore into his own tongue, spurting a flood of blood, dark and plenty. Thrusting Gabriel's body toward his own, he enveloped him into a deep and lust-filled kiss; blood flowed like a river through Gabriel's mouth, forcing him to swallow.

* * *

You like…? If you do, review…then maybe that will get TIC to continue helping me write it.


End file.
